NFB Blind Mentors

NFB Blind Mentors

Future Reflections Spring 1999, Vol. 18 No. 1
(back)(contents)(next)
NFB
Blind Mentors

From the Editor:
The word “mentor”
is derived from the ancient Greek epic poem The Odyssey. In preparation
for his long journey Odysseus chooses his friend and advisor, Mentor, to be
the guardian and tutor of his son during his absence. In modern usage a mentor,
according to the American Heritage Dictionary is “a wise and trusted counselor
or friend.”
Mentoring,
as we know it today can take several forms. It can be formal, for example, the
Big Brothers/Big Sisters program. Or it can be unplanned, as when a neighbor,
teacher, coach, a religious leader, or someone else takes a special interest
in a young person and becomes his/her trusted advisor and friend. Formal or
unplanned, the term implies commitment. Erwin Flaxman, a leading researcher
on mentoring wrote: “Throughout the country, mentoring has come to be considered
a powerful way to provide adult contacts for youth who are isolated from adults
in their schools, homes, communities, and workplaces.”
In the case
of blind children and youth, the adults from whom they are most often isolated
are blind adults. It is not unusual for a blind child never to meet another
blind adult—or in some cases, even another blind child—until long
after he/she starts school. But with the founding of the NFB parents’ division—the
National Organization of Parents of Blind Children—more and more parents
discovered that the NFB is a natural resource that includes, among other things,
potential mentors for them and their children. With affiliates in every state
plus Washington, D.C., and Puerto Rico, the NFB is the most widely accessible
means for blind youth to come into contact with a variety of blind adults of
all ages, skills, occupations, and interests.
Mentoring in
the NFB most often takes the “unplanned” course. When a parent, a
blind child or youth, or a newly blinded adult attends an NFB function—such
as a National Convention, a state convention, a local chapter meeting, a seminar,
a picnic, etc.—he/she meets someone they like, and who takes a special
interest in them. Without any formal structure or guidance, just the willingness
on both parties to make a commitment of time and energy, the mentoring relationship
grows and flourishes.
As the mentee
grows in confidence and no longer needs an active mentor, he/she often becomes
an informal mentor to someone else in the organization.
Formal mentoring
programs require more deliberate planning and coordination as well as a commitment
of time and resources from all parties involved—parents, adults, and youth.
These programs are not easy to start, or to keep going, especially on an all-volunteer
basis. But some NFB affiliates—including Michigan, Illinois, Colorado,
and New Jersey—have developed some very exciting, rewarding mentoring programs,
which are truly changing the lives of blind children.
Here are two
reports, one from Michigan and one from Illinois, which demonstrate something
of what these mentoring programs can mean to the blind youth involved:

A Chance to Teach, A
Chance to Learn
by Debbie Kent Stein
Reprinted from Parents
Helping Parents, the Newsletter of the Illinois Parents of Blind Children,
a Division of the NFB of Illinois, May/June, 1998.
In the Federation,
people often talk about the need for blind people to learn alternative techniques
from one another. Over the past several months, Patti Chang and I, both of us
blind Federationists, have had the chance to put this ideal into practice by
mentoring two blind teens. We meet with the girls every few weeks, sometimes
at Patti’s home, sometimes at mine. Often we prepare a meal together. We
give the girls pointers, but they do everything on their own, from grating breadcrumbs
to frying bacon. Patti has also taught child-care techniques, with her 18-month-old
daughter, Julia, as a demonstration model. We’ve done some work on mobility,
and last week the girls planted bushes and tulip bulbs in my garden.
The girls were
eager to learn, and there is a great deal they want to know beyond gardening
and cooking. We talk as we work. We share experiences, some frustrating and
some rewarding. In their quest for knowledge about living as blind women, the
girls raise a host of challenging questions. Not every question has a ready
answer. But for all of us, this time together is a wonderful opportunity to
learn and grow.
Interview with Shanetta Winston, age 15
When I first
went to Patti’s house, I wanted to learn how to do laundry. That day we
cooked meatloaf, and I made mashed potatoes. Debbie Stein’s daughter Janna
was there, too. We washed dishes together, and it was fun having a partner.
One time we
went downtown with Patti and saw where she works as a lawyer. I liked the way
she works with her clients. It was really cool. We went out to lunch, and I
went up to the counter by myself and asked them for what I wanted. That really
felt good!
I didn’t
think I would like gardening, but I loved it. Planting the tulip bulbs was easy.
But I hated the part where we had to spread manure. I just hated the whole idea
of that!
Since I’ve
been going to Patti’s and Debbie’s, I use the stove more at home,
and I cut things like tomatoes. At school, I’ve been helping the parents
of some of the younger blind kids. I take them (the parents) on cane walks under
sleepshades so they can find out what using the cane is like. I want to tell
parents that if you have a child that’s blind, be sure to let them do things,
because they really can. And I still want to learn how to do laundry.
Tutoring Class
by Allison Hilliker
Editor’s note: The
National Federation of the Blind of Michigan has operated an all-volunteer bi-monthly
tutoring class for blind children for a number of years. Blind adults, blind
teen-agers, and sighted members of the affiliate volunteer as instructors/mentors
for this program. Allison Hilliker wrote the following essay for a school assignment.
In it, she describes her experience as a mentor/tutor in the NFB of Michigan
program. Allison is an honor roll student, and will be a high school senior
this fall. Here is what Allison has to say:
At first I
was unsure of whether or not I really wanted to go. Did I actually want to crawl
out of my nice, warm bed in the middle of winter to spend my Saturday mornings
watching a bunch of little kids learn to read? Then again, the idea mildly intrigued
me that someone just might need my help.
When I got
to the tutoring class, I was surrounded by a dozen or so kids ranging in age
from four to fourteen. There were a few adults around, but it didn’t take
me long to see that they needed all the help they could get. Although I wasn’t
quite sure what I should share with them, the kids quickly pulled me into their
cluster and bombarded me with all sorts of different questions. I was so caught
up in their enthusiasm to learn that what I thought would be difficult for me
to share with them became natural and easy. You see, what I was sharing with
them was Braille—literacy for the blind.
In all of these
kids, I saw a part of myself. They were hungry to learn to read or write or
do math. Unfortunately, like me, these things were supposed to have been learned
in school like other kids learn them. But because of low quality programs or
poorly trained teachers, all of these blind kids were behind their sighted peers
in their skills. Some had partial vision, like me, and even though they struggled
with print, their teachers didn’t feel they needed to learn Braille. The
totally blind kids also had slow skills because they, too, weren’t getting
adequate training or instruction. Very sad facts considering they were all intelligent
children!
That’s
why I felt this tutoring class was so important. I, too, have experienced the
same frustrations that all of them were going through, and I wanted to do what
little I could to help them improve their skills. Growing up, I could see print
rather well, but as the print grew smaller, it became apparent that unless I
learned Braille, I would never keep up. Like these children, I trusted educators
to teach me what I would need in order to be literate. Unfortunately, in our
state, there is no law that requires blind kids to be taught Braille, even though
there is one that says you should teach all children to read.
At the tutoring
classes, I saw a fourteen-year-old who was partially sighted who could hardly
read Braille. Like me, she was becoming frustrated with print, but had hardly
any Braille skills to help her read in school. Another child, who was totally
blind, read Braille relatively well, but when her fifth grade class worked on
geometry, she was told she wouldn’t be able to do angles because she had
never been taught Braille math (Nemeth code). She was more than smart enough,
and upset because she really wanted to be able to do the things the rest of
her class were doing. Still another child could write on a Braille writer, but
was never taught to use a slate and stylus (which is equivalent to pencil or
pen). Her teacher thought she would never have a need for it. These are all
simple, basic requirements to achieving literacy.
Working in
this class made me determined to make a change so that, in the future, blind
kids can get what should be taught them in school like the rest of their classmates.
This shouldn’t have to be done on Saturday mornings. It should be something
they are entitled to receive right along with the sighted child sitting in the
desk next to them.
In the past
few years, the NFB in our state has been trying to do something to improve this
problem. A proposed Braille literacy bill, if passed, would ensure blind kids
in Michigan the right to be taught to read and write Braille. Up until this
time, I hadn’t realized that I could really make a difference. Now suddenly,
seeing how badly these kids wanted to learn to read, I was inspired to help
change their future. I didn’t want them to have to go through the same
struggles that I have. I wanted to make it easier for them and maybe even inspire
them, too.
Although I
have never been a crusader, this lack of basic human rights is cause enough
for me to persevere and keep on fighting. Just one pair of hands running across
a sentence, being able to read it, is definitely worth every bit of my effort.
If you
are interested in organizing a more formal mentoring program for blind children
and their families in your state or community, please contact Barbara Cheadle,
President, National Organization of Parents of Blind Children, 1800 Johnson
Street, Baltimore, Maryland 21230 (410) 659-9314, <[email protected]>.
(back)(contents)(next)